


Incendiary

by coolbyrne



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 09:03:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19849927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbyrne/pseuds/coolbyrne
Summary: Jack rescues a young mother and daughter. Gibbs rescues Jack. They end up rescuing each other. Not-yet-established Slibbs.





	Incendiary

**Author's Note:**

> Meant to be a hurt/comfort fic, but as always, they never quite seem to work out the way I planned! :)

In the midst of the chaos caused by the stampede of people evacuating the building, he had lost sight of Jack, and even as he looked around, he already knew in his heart where she was- she had gone back into the burning building.

…..

She darted up the stairs, two at a time, her lungs burning from the effort and the smoke and the rage, both at herself and for the man who would try to kill a 5 year old girl. She berated herself for having left the girl and her mother behind, knowing she was the key witness against their main suspect. Knowing something like this could happen. She inwardly praised the gods for her low-heeled boot selection that morning, and cursed them for the 14 floors she had to climb.

“I will go to the gym every day for a month if you get me up these goddamn stairs”, she gritted at no one. 

When she finally reached the 14th floor, she bent over in exhaustion and horror. The apartment- what was left of it- seemed to be nothing but a gaping hole where doors and walls were obliterated, leaving nothing in her way except strewn debris and a corridor of fire. The sound was roaring, the crackling of flames, the groaning of support beams, the snapping of framework. It surrounded her, making her work that much harder to pinpoint the sound of life.

“Alicia!” she yelled out. “Alicia! Emma!” She picked her way cautiously into the apartment, ever mindful of the flames that licked the ceiling, sending down pockets of fire like rain. She used her NCIS jacket to cover her hair from the onslaught. The names were called out again and again, and finally came back with a reward- a small yet distinctive cry from across the room. “I hear you! Keep shouting!” 

The trail led her to the bathroom, the only room left that didn’t look like a warzone. Only the door looked worse for wear. In the bathtub, a woman huddled with her little girl. Jack’s relief was palpable. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” she said, trying to soothe the frightened duo. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

“She wanted her hair in a ponytail like yours,” Alicia said. “We came to the bathroom. Then we heard the explosion. I didn’t know what to do.”

Jack knelt and touched the rambling woman’s arm. “It’s okay,” she repeated. Looking at the girl, she brushed back her hair. “It looks nice.” Emma smiled through her fear. “Are we ready?” Mother and daughter nodded. “Okay.” Jack helped them to their feet. “I think I saw a fire escape on the 10th floor.”

“Yes,” Alicia stammered, clutching Emma in her arms.

“Four floors,” Jack said. “We can do that, right?”

Jack’s confidence rose above the chaos and Alicia nodded firmly. “We can.”

…..

He, perhaps more than anyone, knew the beauty and fragility of wood, of its strengths and its vulnerabilities. He didn’t have to look further than the building before him- a decades old structure crafted to withstand time and use, only to come down like a house of cards. The sirens in the distance signalled an arrival that was at least 5 minutes away, minutes that could be too late. Assured that everyone out was at a safe distance, he knew he only had one choice. With the flames reflecting in his blue eyes, he grabbed 2 bottles of water from the truck, and like so many times before and yet so specifically different now, he ran towards the danger, thinking only of her.

…..

“I’ll get that knee surgery,” he promised out loud. “Just get me up these goddamn stairs.”

He was so busy cursing his aging knees (and just his age) that he nearly didn’t see her coming down the stairs between the 11th and 12 floor.

“Gibbs!”

“Jack.”

“What are you- nevermind.” They didn’t have time for her to ask the obvious. “Fire escape on the 10th.” 

He nodded and took the water out of his pocket, cross-cutting the top with his knife. Handing the makeshift squirt bottle to Alicia, he then took point knowing Jack would take the rear. The temperature change that he had felt going up the stairs was all but gone now, the heat becoming a unified wall, and the smoke that had space to rise now settled like a heavy blanket. Debris fell from above as flames sliced through old wood in walls and floors and beams. Gibbs crouched and squinted his way through the unseen obstacle course.

“I know, sweetheart,” he said, hearing the plaintive whimper of the girl in her mother’s arms. “We’re almost there.” 

Because he couldn’t see the floor numbers, he had to keep count, and Jack had clearly done the same, because she shouted out, “Ten!”

Even amidst the smoke and fire and destruction, the emergency exit at the end of the hall stood out like a beacon. 

"I see it," he yelled above the din, and pressed forward. They were halfway there when he heard a yelp. He turned, immediately recognizing Jack's voice.

"Go!" she ordered before he could come to her aid. "Just a twist. It's nothing. I'm right behind you."

"Agent Gibbs?" Alicia asked, wide-eyed and frightened.

He looked at her and the young girl in her arms, who looked at him with her mother's fear.

"Let's go." He cleared the way with caution and care until they made it to the end. He knew opening the door invited oxygen into an already raging fire, but there was little choice. "I'm going to open the door," he explained, "and when I do, I need you to get out as fast as you can, understand?" 

Alicia nodded. "What about you and Agent Sloane?"

"Don't worry about us. I just need you to get to the ground. Fire response should be here. Tell 'em where we are."

"Okay." 

"I'm going to take a quick look, but then you gotta go. Think you and your mom can do that?"

The 5 year old mirrored her mother’s nod, Gibbs' calmness giving her comfort.

"Good job, kiddo." He did as he said, popping his head out the door to make sure it was a viable route. Seeing the metal stairs clear to the ground, he stepped back and waved them through.

"Don't leave her," Alicia said as she squeezed by with Emma.

"Hadn't planned on it."

…..

She had missed the last step and had come down sharply on her ankle just enough to slow her down. Knowing it wasn’t serious, but also aware that time was of the essence, she directed Gibbs to keep going. She saw the struggle in his eyes, even through the smoke, but was glad to see he followed her impassioned order. 

When he turned around to come back for her, everything happened in slow motion. The fire greedily consumed the oxygen brought in from the open door, creating a wall of flame that pushed him with such force that he was thrown forward, and somewhere between him trying to use his body to protect her and her lunging to catch him, they ended up in a heap in a nearby doorway.

"There are worse ways to go."

She heard his muffled remark in her hair, and it only took a second to figure out what he was implying. In the fall, she had landed on top of him, body flush against his, legs entwined but mostly between his thighs, her face pressed into his neck, his arms around her waist holding her tightly to him. The fact he was able to throw out a quip in the middle of everything made her laugh under his ear. 

“With our clothes still on? I'm disappointed at your lack of imagination, Cowboy." Using his hip to push herself up, the playfulness evaporated when she saw the blood on her hand. "You're bleeding."

He looked at her hand then reached down to touch the wound. "Yep," he winced.

Without hesitation, she yanked his belt open, popped the button of his pants and pulled down the zipped so she could get a better view of the dark stain that was spreading across his pelvis. He began to laugh and she admonished him by saying, "Not a word about me getting into your pants."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Using the second water bottle, she poured a liberal amount over the gash likely caused by the flying debris from the fireball. "Shit, you really are bleeding, Gibbs." Quickly, she removed her jacket and followed up by peeling off her top, knowing the shirt was a better absorbent than the polyester jacket. The tank top she wore underneath did little to cool the fire's heat. 

"That's my favourite shirt," he lamented when she pressed it against the blood.

The unexpected response made her cock an eyebrow at him. Slipping her hand under his head, she said, "Just checking for a concussion." She was glad to get an eye roll in return. "Soda water should take that right out," she joked.

"How's your ankle?"

She wasn’t surprised that his concern would focus on her mildly twisted ankle over his gaping wound. "I'm okay. You think Alicia and Emma made it?"

"Yeah. Was safer out there than in here. Only 10 floors."

"Then I wonder where our rescue is?"

"Won't be easy gettin’ up here. Give 'em time, Jack."

Eyeing him from head to foot, she asked, "You about 195?"

It took him a second to realize what she was implying. "Buck eighty-four," he said with enough indignation that she grinned. "And you're not ruckin' me down 10 flights of stairs."

“Sounds like a challenge to me.”

“Sounds like I’m not the only one who got bumped on the head.”

Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she reevaluated the situation, inwardly agreeing that the idea of her carrying him down to safety wasn’t possible, especially with her ankle. Resigned to waiting, she focused her attention on his injury.

“How bad is it, Doc?”

“Well, I’m not that kind of doctor,” she said, holding the cloth firm to his side, “but I think we stopped the bleeding.” She gave him a sip of water before having one of her own. Taking in the blood on her hands and the paleness of his face, she frowned and admitted, “I could strangle you for coming in.”

A snort passed through his nose. “I could strangle you for goin’ in.” A loud crack drew their attention to the hallway, where another beam fell as the fire continued to scythe its way through the building. “We’re gonna be okay, Jack.”

“Yeah, I know.” It wasn’t an empty statement- if Gibbs, battered, bruised and bleeding thought they were going to be okay, she knew it was true. The man had an omnipotent gut. “But seeing the rescue crew any second now wouldn’t be a bad thing, either.”

“You just like firemen.”

As if on cue, they heard another crack, but this one was distinctively man-made as the emergency crew cleared their way up the stairs. Jack shouted their position through the smoke, punctuating each call with a cough until she caught sight of a helmet, then a mask, then a man. 

"Here!" he yelled to the man behind him.

They were at her side immediately. 

"You okay, Ma'am?"

She nodded. "He's been injured."

He knelt beside them and spoke into the radio attached to his coat. "Bucket on the 10th floor." His partner was already clearing a path to the emergency exit.

"Did they make it?" she asked. "The mother and the young girl?"

The firefighter nodded. "It's how we knew where you were, Ma'am."

Gibbs's laugh got their attention. 

"Don't be an ass," she warned, even as she squeezed his hand in relief.

…..

"Please tell me you're his wife."

Jack paused in the hospital room doorway, looked at Gibbs, the nurse, then back to Gibbs.

"They won't give me an early discharge without a family member willing to take care of me," he explained, his tone telling her exactly what he thought of the policy.

"And why do I get the feeling an early discharge would benefit everyone?" 

"Nurse Maggie doesn't find my behaviour charming." The way he said it clearly implied it was said to him.

Jack offered the nurse a sympathetic smile. "Yes, I'm his wife." 

The chuckle from Gibbs got Maggie's attention. With narrowed eyes, she seemed to be weighing her options.

"At this point, I don't even care if you're telling the truth," she told Jack. "Either way, God bless you. And God help you." She directed a scowl in Gibbs' direction. "The paperwork will be waiting for you at the nurses' station."

…..

"There," she said, sitting back on the bed to admire her handiwork. She tried to stop her eyes from straying lower than the bandage that peeked out from his boxers and she laughed inwardly at the fact she had Special Agent Jethro Gibbs in his bed wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts and a beatific smile. 

He had, of course, insisted on being the most difficult out-patient she had ever seen, wanting to drive home, wanting to be left alone, wanting to deal with things on his own. She had literally strong-armed him upstairs, her strength catching him by surprise long enough for her to practically push him onto the bed. 

"Ow!" he had protested, and she forced herself to remember what a shit he had been up to the puppy dog eyes point.

"Next time, listen."

That had been 15 minutes ago, and the time and her tone seemed to take the edge off his stubbornness. 

"You're my favourite nurse, Mrs. Gibbs." The words hit his brain and he flashed an easy grin as he reached up to her cheek. "'Mrs. Gibbs'. I like that." 

She felt it flush under his touch and words and she tried to cover their effect. "Awww, nice to see the painkillers are kicking in, sweetie." She couldn't help but laugh at his loopy smile.

"You laughin' at me? 'M serious."

"Okay," she said, her tone slow and patient.

This only made him more indignant. "I got 4 women to marry me," he almost pouted. The words seemed to confuse him. "At different times."

A Gibbs who wasn't in complete control was a sight to behold and she couldn't help but run her fingers across his forehead and down his jaw. He closed his eyes.

"S'nice."

"Yes, it is," she whispered. 

Seeing him so stark and at peace must've played with her head (that's the excuse she was going with) because she leaned down and touched his lips with a feather brush of hers. When he didn't react, she nipped lightly at his bottom lip, and if she felt any guilt over her boldness, his hand reaching up into her hair banished the feeling, his eager reciprocation banished all thought. His moan vibrated passed her teeth and tickled her tongue and she responded in kind. Mindful of his injury, she rested her hand on the bandage as a reminder as she pressed even closer, meeting his mouth, hot and open. His free hand slipped around her waist, pulling her in, and in the fog that clouded her reason, it occurred to her that the only barrier between her hand and his warm skin was the linen boxers adorned with sailboats. He pulled back when he felt her grin under his lips.

“What’s so funny?”

She shrugged, held captive by curious blue eyes. “You. Me. Us.” She snapped the elastic waistband. “These.”

“I like ‘em.”

She grinned at the painkiller side effects still coursing through his body. “I like you in them.” 

They both knew there was an obvious reply that would be laced with innuendo, but instead of words, she daringly trailed her hand from the waistband until she felt his length under her palm. Their sighs threaded between hovering mouths. In an instant, she was on her back and her laughter filled the bedroom. 

“What are you doing?” she laughed as he looked down at her. 

“Whatever you want,” he replied, his mouth lowering to her neck and immediately finding her favourite spot. Or maybe it was her favourite because it was his mouth that was there.

“You’re injured.”

“Painkillers.”

“You’re delirious.”

He raised his head. looking perturbed that his task was interrupted. “I’ve never been clearer-headed.”

Her brows came down and her lips pursed to the side. “Pretty sure that’s not a word.”

He lifted himself on his elbows, the motion making his lower body press deliciously into hers. She wondered if her eyes were doing the same things his were, wondered if she looked so ready, so willing, so predatory. Her hips twitched up into his and she watched his eyes go even darker.

She gave him credit for finding enough breath to say, “You gonna sass me all day or-”

There were so many possibilities in his final word that she could only repeat it. "Or?"

"I'm disappointed at your lack of imagination, Lieutenant."

Any doubt about his lucidity vanished in the wake of his snark. Hearing her own words used against her, she hooked her leg over his uninjured side and flipped him over in a move that wiped the self-satisfied smirk off his face.

"I'll show you imagination, Gunny."

…..

-end


End file.
